


Hit me baby (one more time)

by donnarafiki



Series: Drarry Drabbles [20]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, M/M, Oversized Sweaters, a tacky muggle song, as in they're joking about it, dont worry there is 0 smut, mention of BDSM but in a non sex way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 18:34:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12086913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donnarafiki/pseuds/donnarafiki
Summary: In which Milly forces Draco to wear an oversized sweater, Pansy sides with Hermione to embarrass Harry and Ron faints





	Hit me baby (one more time)

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be just about oversized sweaters but now there is this.....  
> I hope you like it!

“Millicent, what on earth are you doing?” Draco shot his friend a confused look from across the eighth year common room, where his peaceful solitary study session had been interrupted by a weird flapping noise.

“Flapping around with the sleeves of my girlfriend’s oversized sweater.” Millicent replied as she flapped around with the sleeves of her girlfriend’s oversized sweater. It wasn’t even a Slytherin sweater, but one of the Chinese national quidditch league. Cho Chang wasn’t even Chinese, but Korean. Draco didn’t really get the relationship she and Milly had.

“And why are you doing that?” Draco asked with a tired sigh. He was more than done with dissecting the love song they had to explain for muggle studies. He still couldn’t figure out what _hit me baby one more time_ was supposed to mean. Was the singer pro domestic violence?

Stupid Britney Spears.

“Because it’s fun. You know that’s a thing people have, right Draco? Fun? A good mood? Happiness?” Millicent stopped flapping and walked over to him. Ignoring her sarcasm Draco quickly shielded his essay from sight. Millicent would probably know what Miss Spears meant since she had been raised by her muggle father, and he was not looking forward to getting laughed at by her.

 _Why does Chang even own sweaters that big?_ Draco wondered as Milly sat next to him. Cho was a petite girl and she’d be able to fit into this giant red tent at least seven times.

“Because she knows _I_ like oversized sweaters, and she knows I like to wear stuff that smells like her.” Milly replied. Dammit, he’d been thinking out loud again.

Draco was so busy scolding himself for his slip up that he forgot to reply. It wasn’t a rare thing to happen these days. After the war getting distracted by all sorts of things was basically the only thing he did. He couldn’t even stare at Harry for longer than half a minute before something else caught his eye. It was maddening.

“Here, you try it.” Shaken out of his thoughts Draco nearly strained his neck as he looked at Milly again. She was wearing a plain grey shirt now, and the red sweater lay in her outstretched hands. Draco frowned.

“Why would I try it? _I_ don’t want to smell like your girlfriend.”

“Not what I meant dumdum.” Milly chuckled, but there was a sad glint in her eyes. “I mean try wearing this oversized sweater and flap the sleeves.”

“I see no reason as to why that would be pleasing in any way.” Draco shot back, still looking puzzled. He pulled his muggle studies homework towards himself again and tried to regain focus, even though he knew it was a lost cause. He couldn’t concentrate for longer than half an hour a day it seemed.

Stupid PTSD.

“You say that again once you’ve tried it. Come on, if you do it I will help you with your muggle studies, and I promise I won’t laugh.” Millicent looked at him with puppy eyes, and Draco sighed. He wasn’t going to get rid of her until he obeyed, and since he was constantly sleep deprived he had no energy left whatsoever to protest.

“Fine.”

Milly grinned and then actually _squealed_ , before pulling Draco’s reading glasses off his face and shoving the sweater on. It was still warm from when she’d worn it, which left Draco feeling slightly uncomfortable.

Things improved when the smell of mint tea and cheap shampoo filled his nostrils. This left him confused for a moment, until he recalled smelling this exact same thing every time he hugged Milly, and hugging for some stupid reason (which did not fit his aesthetic or his family name at all) was the only thing that could calm him down when his mind was racing again.

“Feels nice ey?” Milly asked with a cheeky grin as she tried to put his glasses back and stabbed him in the ear with one of the legs. He rolled his eyes and grumbled as a pleasant warmth spread through his gut. The knowledge that not all students in the school wanted to see him dead was comforting. Not that a Malfoy needed _comforting_ or anything silly like that. Don’t be daft.

“You know there’s no shame in asking for help right? Or a hug?” And without waiting for Draco’s approval Milly pulled him into a firm hug. Draco sputtered but didn’t push her away. He was too tired.

And it felt kind of nice.

“Now flap with your arms.” Milly ordered as she released him.

“I’m not going to flap my arms Mills.”

Milly gave him a sharp look and whispered in a threatening voice, “if you do not flap your arms I will tell the Weasleys you were jealous of their knitted sweaters.”

Draco blushed bright red and gave her a look that was a combination of fear, exhaustion and irritation.

“Fine.” He sighed then. He heaved up his arms and flapped the ridiculously long sleeves in front of Milly’s face, knocking off her glasses. He chuckled as they landed on the floor, then he continued to harass Milly’s face with the sleeves. He probably looked ridiculous but now that he had started he found he didn’t care much. He hated being wrong but this was indeed quite fun to do.

Stupid Millicent.

“Are you happy now?” Draco grumbled a little out of breath after he’d exhausted his arm muscles.

“Wrong question Draco.” MIlly gave him a sharp look again, but it was less impressive now that her hair was disheveled and her glasses were gone. “What you should ask is are _you_ happy?”

“No, I looked like an idiot.” He tugged at the gigantic red sweater. “Will you help me with my muggle studies now?”

Milly shook her head and sighed, which earned her a shove from Draco, but then she retrieved her glasses and scanned his work. She chuckled. “Well the answer to your question is not domestic violence. It’s sex.”

“Sex? Why would you hit people during sex?” Draco flapped out, turning beetroot as soon as he realised half the common room was listening to them.

“I haven’t the slightest, I’m more of a Bambi lesbian myself. Maybe you could ask Pansy?”

“Oi! I do _not_ engage in BDSM thank you very much.” Pansy yelled at them. Just as the rest of the common room she had overheard Milly.

“But I bet Potter has you covered.” The asian girl added with a smirk.

“Covered in what?” A disshelved looking Harry asked when he walked into the room right that moment.

“Latex and leather.” Pansy answered. Draco wanted to die.

“I prefer the sweater Malfoy is wearing to be honest. Latex and leather sounds rather uncomfortable. Why would I cover Malfoy with it anyway?”

“For BDSM sex of course.” Milly replied. Harry tripped over his own feet and fell hard against the table Draco had been using to make him homework.

“Excuse me?” Harry sputtered with a bright red face as he rubbed his painful upper arm. He looked rather stupid, lying there almost face first on the floor.

“Hey! What did you guys do to Harry?” Ron shouted offended as he entered the common room, soon followed by Hermione.

“We revealed the secret BDSM sex he and Draco are having.” Pansy said matter-of-factly. Draco let his head fall onto the hard wooden table with a loud _thud_. He hated his friends sometimes.

“Oh that,” Hermione shrugged, “well I’m glad you found someone who's willing to dominate you, and I for one hope he shares all of your many kinks Harry.”

Ron looked like he might pass out as he stared open mouthed at his girlfriend. “He’s getting whipped by _Malfoy_?”

“Well that escalated quickly.” Millicent mutterd in Draco’s ear. Draco groaned and threw a quill at her head. She caught it and sat back to enjoy the gigantic mess she’d made, openly enjoying the commotion.

Draco, however, was very much _not_ enjoying the commotion. Sex was always a bit of a taboo subject for purebloods and the little bits and pieces he had puzzled together so far did not feature _any_ of the things his fellow students were talking about. Left alone that he did such things to _Harry Potter_ on a regular basis.

As soon as Ron actually fainted and people weren’t looking at him anymore he fled up the stairs. The last thing he heard before he slammed the door shut was “DEAN THOMAS I AM NEVER GOING TO WEAR A FUCKING LATEX LEOTARD! GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF THE GUTTER.”

All in all Draco was happy to collapse on his bed and pull the curtains shut around it, cancelling out the last bit of the noise. He crawled under the duvet and hugged the oversized sweater he was still wearing.

He couldn’t really wrap his head around the fact that only a year ago he’d been certain he wouldn’t even survive the war, and now he was safe and warm and cozy, wrapped up in a huge sweater from _Cho Chang_ , out of all people. It was ridiculous.

But besides that it was comfortable too, and within five minutes he was sound asleep. He never slept longer than an hour though, because that was the moment the nightmares kicked in.

“Uhm, Malfoy?” Draco stirred in his sleep. The red eyes of Voldemort flickered with green for a moment, but soon they went back to red again. He did not wake up. “Malfoy are you okay? Are you having a nightmare?”

It was the genuine concern in Harry’s voice that penetrated through the fog of the dream and woke Draco up. He groaned and curled up further, shaking from the memory of _him_. No matter how many times he saw it the face still terrified him. He was unsurprised but not un-ashamed to find his cheeks were wet from tears.

Harry set something down on his nightstand and sat down on the edge of his bed. The way the mattress dipped in reminded Draco so much of his mother bringing him a goodnight kiss that he was crying again before he even realised it.

He turned around, trying to bury his face in his pillows, but Harry _stubborn fucking prick_ Potter wouldn’t leave him alone. A muscled arm, strongly contrasting with Draco’s own weak limbs, curled itself around him and soon after he felt Harry’s chest press against his back. It appeared the slayer of the dark lord was _spooning_ _him_.

“Luna taught me how to spot the difference between crying alone and crying lonely.” Harry said, his tone of voice more than a little bit uncomfortable and awkward.

“And she showed me how to chase away the fear of a nightmare.” He added rather doubtfully, and he moved away from him so one of his hands got the space it needed to make hard but relaxing stroking movements across Draco’s back.

Draco was so overwhelmed by the nightmare, what had happened in the common room and what Harry was doing now that al he could do was tell himself to _breathe._ Just _breathe_.

After a minute or two Harry sat up again, and to his own surprise Draco found himself more relaxed than he’d felt in months, probably years.

“I have no idea why you just did that,” Draco murmured, still a bit out of it, “but I enjoyed it.”

“Glad to hear that.” Harry replied. Draco tried to casually dry his cheeks before emerging from his duvet again. He self consciously put a hand through his hair, certain it would look a right mess.

“You, eh, left your homework in the common room.” Harry indicated at the boks on Draco’s night stand and flushed a bit. “I thought I’d give it back to you before they start reading it out loud downstairs.”

“Thank you Po-.”

“Harry.” Harry cut in. “You can call me Harry, if you want to that is.”

Draco, surprised that Harry would think he would _not_ want to call him Harry, sat up a bit straighter and tried to convey his thanks again. “Well then, thank you, Harry. And do call me Draco, if you want to that is.”

“I do.” Harry blurted, turning even more red. “I mean I do, eh, want to call you Draco.” He finished clumsily and Draco found himself smiling. A rare occasion these days.

“Where did you get that sweater from?” Harry asked, seemingly trying to prevent an awkward silence.

“From Cho Chang actually.” And Draco couldn’t help but laugh as Harry’s face flushed again. The messy haired man looked horribly awkward, guilty, puzzled and shocked at the same time, and it frankly looked quite hilarious.

“Relax Harry. I’m not dating your ex. Millicent would kill me if I stole her girlfriend.” He chuckled as relief flooded Harry’s face, feeling suddenly giddy with the thought that _Harry Potter_ might be interested in him.

“Wait what?” All of the sudden Harry looked puzzled again. “Since when are Cho and Bulstrode dating?”

Now it was Draco’s turn to be puzzled again. “Since the start of the school year.” He said slowly, eying Harry with suspicion. The guy wasn’t fucking with him now was he?

“They are the leaders of the GSA, and they snuggle together like, all the time.” Draco continued. Harry frowned, seemingly digging through his memory to recall any of Draco’s claims. “Harry are you sure you have the right prescription for your glasses? Those two could not have been more obvious if they’d tattooed _we are lesbian lovers_ on their forehead.”

Harry glared at him and pulled his knees up. “It’s not my fault I suck at seeing that kind of thing okay? I wasn’t raised with it you know. With love.”

And suddenly Harry looked very small, sitting there on the edge of Draco’s bed, staring ahead without seeing anything with a pout on his face. Draco swallowed hard, not sure what to do now, until he remembered what he was wearing.

“Harry?”

“What?” Harry snapped as he changed from hurt boy into an angry adult man.

“Put this on and flap with the sleeves.” Draco held out Cho’s sweater. “It helps, I promise.”

Harry eyed the sweater. He didn’t seem to have much faith in Draco’s method and unlike Millicent Draco had no threats he could use against his victim. Though victim was the wrong word of course.

“You’re ridiculous.” Harry muttered and he turned back to staring at the wall.

“And you won’t be able to hit me in the face with permission if you do not put on this sweater and flap the sleeves in my face.” Draco shot back. He was ready to sell some of his dignity and self perseverance if it meant Harry would look happy again. Though if he was being honest he didn’t have much dignity left.

Harry eyed him from the side, then silently snatched the sweater from Draco’s outstretched arm and pulled it over his head. It looked stupid on him, way too big, the colour didn’t fit and Harry had more of an middle eastern look to him than a chinese one. Still, Draco had so much trouble tearing his gaze away from Harry that he did not even see the man coming when he hit him in the face with his sleeve.

Once it did hit him though he scrambled backwards until he was pressed against the headboard of his bed as a reflex. Harry didn’t seem bothered by this and just lurched forward until he was half-sitting half-lying on top of Draco as he hit him in the face with Cho’s sweater.

“I said flap not hit!” Draco yelled as Harry beated down on his face, but he was laughing as he said it, because Harry was laughing too now.

“I thought you were supposed to be a BDSM fan?” Harry shot back with a wicked grin.

“I don’t even know what that means Potter!” Draco exclaimed just before Harry tired out and collapsed on top of him. “I thought the song was about domestic violence.”

“Cozy mind you have there.” Harry tapped the side of Draco’s head and dragged himself up a bit until his face was hanging above Draco’s.

“Just as cozy as yours, possibly even cozier.” Draco whispered, very aware of the fact that his breath was caressing Harry’s face, and that he had no idea if it smelled good yes or no.

“Show off.” Harry shot back.

Despite his nerves Draco looked smug as he replied, “It’s not showing off if it’s true.”

“I think it still is, but I’d have to ask Hermione to be sure.” Harry pulled a thinking face, which Draco thought was the single most adorable thing in the world. Before he knew what he was doing he’d drifted off from the conversation to Harry’s eyes, his hair, the patterns on the ceiling, how muggles knitted wool for their sweaters…

He startled when Harry talked again and mentally scolded himself for losing focus. He’d lived in one house with the dark lord, he should be able to handle some stupid concentration issues. And there he was drifting again.

“Did you hear what I said?” Harry inquired with an amused look on his face. At least he didn’t get angry like some of the professors did. Or maybe the anger came later. “I said it is pretty disturbing that two eighteen year old boys are bragging about their shitty mental state when they should be kissing.”

“Kissing?” Draco muttered perplexed.

“Yes Draco, kissing. I hope you _do_ know what that means.” Draco briefly wondered how this idiot of a man had gotten the balls to be so up front about things, but before he could get distracted again he bend forward and planted his lips firmly on Harry’s. And for the first time since the war, he didn’t think anything could distract him from the magnificent experience that is kissing Harry Potter.

It wasn’t perfect, in fact it was rather clumsy, with several collisions of teeth and near-bitings of tongues, but it was right. It _felt_ right. And as Harry reached out and tangled his fingers in Draco’s hair, messing it up even further, the both of them were sure _they_ would be alright.

And they would be.

Together.

**Author's Note:**

> I miss writing regularly here, school is sucking me dry atm  
> If you want to leave kudos or a comment and make my day that would be absolutely wonderful<3
> 
> thank you for reading!


End file.
